Harry Potter and the Sacred Twenty-Eight
by gasgiant405
Summary: One change has long-reaching effects. Mad-Eye Moody foils the kidnap attempt against him the night before starting as the Defense professor. How will Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry change as a result? And what do life debts have to do with all this? Eventual H/G/DG
1. Chapter 1: Murder Most Mad

Harry Potter and the Sacred Twenty-Eight

"Arthur! Mrs. Weasley called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!" Harry entered the kitchen just ahead of a flustered looking Mr. Weasley and started at the image of Amos Diggory's head floating in the flames of the fireplace, his face noticeably white even through the Floo-green pallor of the fire. Mr. Weasley scrambled to find something to write with as Mr. Diggory had started shouting as soon as Mr. Weasley had come into the room,

"Mad-Eye's been arrested, Arthur! For murder! The Ministry's in an uproar, and I just saw Skeeter disapparate from the Atrium. We need everybody here, now, or else who know how bad this will get!"

Mrs. Weasley gasped and began cramming as much toast as would fit into her husband's hands as he stepped into the fire, shouting, "Ministry of Magic, Atrium!"

By now, the entire Weasley clan plus Hermione had worked their way into the kitchen. Harry wasted no time in catching the rest up with the shocking news.

"Mad-Eye's an old friend of Dumbledore's," explained Bill, his face uncharacteristically grim. "He was the toughest, meanest old Auror there ever was. Took down more Death Eaters than the rest of the Ministry forces combined in the last war. Unfortunately, in his old age, he's started to come unhinged a little bit. Used to be small things, like charming his waste bins to chuck trash at intruders, but over the years the incidents have gotten nastier. Last year he just barely avoided Azkaban after he stunned a Muggle postman and three bystanders in broad daylight for walking too close to his stoop. If he's snapped and killed somebody…..this doesn't look good."

A loud sniff punctuated Bill's melancholy explanation. Mrs. Weasley was dabbing her eyes, staring at the family clock, which now showed Mr. Weasley 'at work.' "Percy, Bill, Charlie, I expect your father would appreciate your help. The rest of you, eat up and get moving. We've got cars waiting to take us to Kings Cross, no matter what may be happening elsewhere." 

The next half hour was as subdued as Harry had ever seen the Weasley household. The three eldest Weasley children had immediately disapparated, while the rest finished throwing things into trunks. Uncharacteristically, they were packed and ready with nearly two minutes to spare. Once they were all settled into the magically altered cars, conversation erupted almost immediately.

"Why is Mad-Eye's arrest such a big deal?" asked Ron. "I mean, I know he's a legend and all that, but why did Mr. Diggory need Dad? Doesn't he usually work with Muggles?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, and when she turned from the front seat, Harry was struck by how much older she looked in that moment. Gone was the kind, plump-ish face Harry had grown to be quite fond of in the last two years, replaced by aged, deep lines, etched deeply into her forehead and under her eyes. The kind, warm eyes were now haunted by something Harry couldn't quite describe. When she spoke, Harry almost didn't recognize her voice. Instead of the loving, maternal tone she used with Harry, or even the commanding tone she used with Fred and George, she now spoke with a tremor, barely audible over the hum of the motor.

"Your father and Mad-Eye fought together during the war, Ron. He saved your father's life more times than I care to remember. Your father owes him a great debt of gratitude. It likely would have been a Life Debt if Mad-Eye were a less honorable man. But he refused when your father brought it up, saying he would have done it for anybody fighting against You-Know-Who. If Mad-Eye is in trouble, there's very few people who would work harder to help him than your father."

A stunned silence fell once again. Harry felt his neck warm from embarrassment, as if he had intruded on a private family moment. He noticed Ron's mouth agape in shock and Hermione's eyes wide with wonder. He wondered what the others' reaction would be when they heard this. Fred and George would likely brush it off with a joke of some kind. That's how they dealt with stress. Ginny wouldn't have joked, though, Harry thought. She would've teared up a bit, probably thinking of her own near miss with Tom Riddle. Harry shuddered, remembering his own encounters with the Dark Lord. Both times he had gotten incredibly lucky he knew. He'd have likely lost his life had anything gone differently. And now that Pettigrew was loose, looking for Voldemort, Harry knew his time was limited before he would once again have to face his parents' killer.

Harry's introspection was broken by the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice speaking again, her voice a little stronger this time.

"We'll all just have to hope your father can help Mad-Eye. In the mean time, you don't worry about it. You keep focused on your classes and keeping your marks up. You'll know soon enough what the outcome of all this is, either through the _Prophet_ or….otherwise."

As usual, Ron couldn't restrain himself, "What do you mean otherwise, Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled, a bit of her usual self returning, "Hopefully you'll find out. It'll mean Mad-Eye's gotten off." She refused to say any more on the matter for the remainder of the ride to the train station.

When they arrived at Kings Cross, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley children all said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, accepting tearful hugs and wet kisses in the cases of Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny. As they had unexpectedly left the Burrow on time, they were one of the first on the platform. The Hogwarts Express billowed steam that clung to the scarlet locomotive, making it difficult to see further than a few feet at a time. Unlike in years past, when Harry had arrived with only minutes to spare, the platform was quite calm. Instead of the last minute hustle and bustle of students running onto the train and mothers and fathers calling out last minute bits of advice, there were instead emptiness, and, more eerily, near silence. Harry checked his watch. They were nearly a half hour early.

The group entered the train, sitting together. Ron shared Mrs. Weasley's story with Fred, George, and Ginny. To Harry's amazement, Fred and George had no joke, only stony looks of seriousness. Ginny's reaction was closer what Harry expected. Her eyes did indeed well up, though instead of the introspection Harry had expected, she looked at him and blushed deeply. Looking away from Ginny, slightly embarrassed, something occurred to Harry. "What is a Life Debt?" he asked. To his surprise, it was Ginny who answered.

"It's a type of magical bond, Harry. When a witch or wizard saves the life of another, it creates a bond between the two. The person who was saved becomes indebted to the person who saved them. The savior then has a choice. They can either reject the bond, or accept it. If they reject it, then it's over. The bond breaks, and all goes back to as it was before. This is what Mad-Eye did for Dad."

Harry listened to Ginny's explanation, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. "What happens if you accept the bond?" he asked. 

Ginny blushed a brilliant scarlet, but continued speaking, "If the savior accepts the bond, then she or he may demand something from the person they saved. They could ask for money, or…"she broke off, blushing so deeply Harry couldn't tell where her hair ended and face began.

Harry looked around for an explanation. Ron looked as clueless as he felt. Fred and George still looked solemn, identical looks of thought etched onto their faces. Hermione was a bit pink in the face, although nowhere as red as Ginny still was. She took a breath and finished the explanation, "The savior could ask for a favor, Harry. _Any_ kind of favor."

Harry felt his neck warm again as he looked away again in embarrassment, the implication fully understood. Fred and George's flashed matching grins for a brief moment at Harry's discomfort. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Ginny rushing out of the compartment, tears starting to stream down her still beat-red face. The matching grins disappeared, replaced by identical looks of concern.

"We'll go track her down and make sure she's okay," said George. "See you guys at the feast."

Without another word, he and George swept out of the compartment after Ginny. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Hermione, suddenly terse. "You rejected your life debt from her, right Harry? You didn't accept it, did you?"

Harry started, closing his mouth. "I—what? I've never even thought about it. It was more than a year ago Hermione. I was twelve! I didn't even know about Life Debts. So no, we didn't talk about it at all, not really."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, her voice raising an octave. "What do you mean, not really?"

Harry started feeling the first twinges of anger, "When we left Dumbledore's office, she said thank you and I said you're welcome. That's it! We haven't talked about the Chamber since! Will you lay off now?" 

Hermione deflated slightly, looking mollified. "I'm sorry, Harry. I knew you wouldn't have done something like that….Ginny's reaction got me worried is all."

Ron, who had started turning as red as his sister, though from anger rather than embarrassment, when Harry and Hermione's conversation first started, was starting to calm down some. "Still though," he said, "she seemed really upset about something to do with Life Debts. And you're the only one who would've had a chance to form one with her, Harry."

Harry shuffled uncomfortably. This whole Life Debt conversation was making him anxious, and he wasn't sure why. There was something tickling at the back of his mind that he just couldn't figure out. "Look Ron, I dunno. Maybe it's just her crush acting up again. All I know is we never talked about it."

Hermione's face shifted to one of deep thought. "I'll look into it when we get to Hogwarts. There might be something about it in the library. In the mean time, it couldn't hurt to talk to her about it, Harry. It might make her feel better."

Harry sighed. That niggling feeling in the back of his mind was getting worse. "Okay, Hermione. I'll talk to her. May as well do it now, before everybody else gets here."

Hermione smiled at him. "Just be understanding, Harry. Imagine what you'd be like if it were Cho coming to talk with you."

Harry's face flushed a brilliant shade of red as he ducked out of the compartment, away from Ron's guffaws and Hermione's sly grin. He turned the way Ginny had fled, and willed his face to turn back into a normal color. Maybe he could go find Cho after talking with Ginny…

He broke off, flushing again. The train was still largely empty, though he passed by a few filled compartments on his way down the train. Most students would be arriving in the next ten minutes or so, so he would have to be quick about this talk with Ginny if he wanted it to be kept private.

He found her, Fred and George in a compartment near the end of the train. Thankfully there was nobody else in this part of the train yet. Harry fervently hoped it would remain that way long enough to make sure no rumors got started about him or Ginny. Or him _and_ Ginny.

He pulled the compartment door open, seeing Fred, George, and Ginny in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap. Ginny looked to have calmed down significantly, and was carefully laying her card atop the growing structure in the middle of the floor between her and her brothers. Unfortunately for her, the card she had just laid down triggered the explosive end to the game, singing all three sets of eyebrows and sending Fred and George into uproarious laughter and Ginny into a good-natured pout, arms folded across her chest. Harry smiled slightly, and cleared his throat. All three sets of eyes swiveled to meet his. Fred and George smiled at him and greeted him cheerfully. Ginny blushed, hard, but remained silent. Harry took a steadying breath.

"Fred, George, do you mind if I talk with Ginny? Alone?" Ginny turned, if possible, an even deeper shade of red. Fred and George each gave Harry a long, measured look, followed by a considering look down at Ginny and each other. They seemed to be communicating with each other silently in a way that only twins could. After a brief, silent conversation, Fred knelt down beside Ginny and George turned to Harry and jerked his head out to the hallway. Harry took the signal, and he and George stepped out into the hallway. Harry took a breath to speak, but George beat him to the punch,

"Listen, Harry. You're the brother we never had. Or, rather, you're the brother we wish Percy was. We know you'd never hurt Ginny on purpose. And I know you've gone out of your way to help her before. Just…..be careful here, that's all we ask. She's all twisted up about something, and her feelings for you aren't helping. Not that we blame you any for that, just laying it all out for you. Be careful in there."

Harry had opened his mouth to retort, but closed it, swallowed, and considered George's words. Rarely had he ever seen the twins act this seriously. He nodded solemnly. "I just want to see if there's anything I can do for her." George smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Harry. Fred should be done in there, so go on and let him know we're ready."

Harry opened Fred and Ginny's compartment door. Fred had Ginny in his arms and was patting the back of her head kindly. He and Harry exchanged looks over Ginny's head and gave each other brief nods. Fred stood up and extricated himself from Ginny. Ginny sniffled a bit and turned around to face Harry, with red-rimmed eyes.

Harry took a shuddering breath, looked at Ginny and said, "Ginny, I,—" but was cut off.

"Harry, I think we're bound by a Life Debt." 


	2. Chapter 2: Bonds and Blondes

Harry Potter and the Sacred Twenty-Eight

Chapter 2: Bonds and Blondes

"Harry, I think we're bound by a Life Debt."

Harry gaped at Ginny's interruption, all thoughts of what he'd come to say wiped clean. He scrambled for something to interject into the suddenly tense silence. Failing to find anything intelligible to say, he looked at Ginny, mouth working around words that wouldn't come. Her eyes remained red-rimmed and sad, but behind the grief there was something more. A growing defiance and determination flickered in those chocolate brown orbs. He took a steadying breath, and turned away, suddenly acutely aware that he'd been staring.

"Ouch!"

Harry's mind went from floundering to hyper focused as a sudden, sharp, stinging sensation rippled across his left arm. He drew his wand and fired a retaliatory hex towards Ginny before he could think to restrain himself. To his immense relief, Ginny's reflexes were up to the task and she dodged gracefully, wand still held at the ready as Harry's hex splashed off the back wall. Harry shook his left arm and glared at the youngest Weasley.

"Ginny, what the hell!?"

Ginny gave a satisfied grin, the first smile he'd ever seen from her, Harry thought idly, and brandished her wand towards Harry's right arm, the grin vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"Done doing your best Crabbe and Goyle imitation, Harry? Or do I need to hex you again?"

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled. He shook his hexed arm, the stinging already dissipating. He looked back at Ginny, her eyes hard now, determination etched into every part of her face. "I'm fine, Ginny. Put your wand away, and let's talk."

At Harry's words, Ginny stowed her wand back in her bag, and sat back down. Harry sat opposite her and waited expectantly. It didn't take long. Ginny spoke again, her gaze set firmly somewhere over Harry's left shoulder. "I think we're bound by a Life Debt, Harry."

Harry inspected her right knee intently as he considered his response. "Why do you think that, Ginny? The Chamber happened over a year ago. It's done. It's been done. Why bring it up now?"

Harry heard Ginny take a shuddering breath and Harry drew his gaze upward. Ginny's eyes were red again, tears welling up. He reached out and took her hand, causing Ginny to blush. But her breathing steadied. She gave Harry's hand a thankful squeeze and pulled her hand away.

"Because until June, it was never an issue. All I ever wanted was to move on from the Chamber. To forget about Tom…." Her voice broke off momentarily at the mention of Tom Riddle, but to Harry's amazement, Ginny rallied almost immediately. "And other than the Dementors making me remember it on the train, last year I didn't have to deal with any of it. I thought it was done. Then in June I started feeling this compulsion to go find you. You needed help and I needed to go find you. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't study, it was so strong. I checked your room and you weren't there. I wandered the castle all night looking for you, but I couldn't find you. The next morning you were in the hospital wing, and I felt sick to my stomach. I spent that whole day in my room, curled up in panic that I couldn't control."

A feeling of dawning comprehension rushed through Harry. Ginny was talking about the night he and Hermione had rescued Sirius. Ginny kept speaking, as though she thought that if she stopped she'd never start again.

"I thought maybe it was a fluke. That maybe it was just…." Ginny took another shaking breath and blushed so red she could've blended in with a brick wall. To her credit, Harry mused, she kept going. "That maybe it was my feelings for you making me go crazy with worry. You were released from the hospital wing the next day, and my worry went away."

Ginny's voice trailed off again, and Harry was sure he was blushing almost as much as Ginny was in that moment. Ginny's crush on him had always made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, and now he was being told all about it by Ginny herself. He opened his mouth to try to steer the conversation towards safer grounds, but words wouldn't come. Ginny, thankfully, didn't seem to notice, and continued talking.

"Like I said, I thought at first it was a fluke. By the time we left Hogwarts I had even managed to halfway convince myself that it had never happened. But this summer, it's happened twice more, and I can't ignore it anymore. Something's wrong, and I think it's a Life Debt bond."

Harry sat there, pondering everything Ginny had just told him. "If you don't mind me asking, when were the other two times?"

Ginny looked at him quizzically, but answered. "The first time was a couple of days before Dad went and got you from your relatives. The second was the night of the Quidditch World Cup."

Harry sat for a long moment, processing it all. Things were lining up all too clearly. The night he'd nearly died fighting off a hundred dementors. The night he'd witnessed Lord Voldemort murder an old man in a dream. And the night he'd lost his wand, seen the Dark Mark cast over the campground, nearly been trampled and almost stunned by a group of Ministry employees. In other words, the three worst, most dangerous nights he'd had in recent memory. This was too much to be just a coincidence. Ginny was on to something, he thought begrudgingly.

He sighed, and explained the importance of the second night to Ginny. She'd already known what had happened the night of the Quidditch World Cup, and Harry wasn't ready to tell anybody else about Sirius just yet. Ginny listened to his explanation with a grim look on her face.

"Can I at least assume that the night you're not telling me about was fraught with danger?" she asked, her voice containing just a hint of frustration.

Harry nodded silently. Clearly, she'd made a similar connection as Harry had. Her compulsions were triggered by dangerous times in Harry's life. Ginny took a couple of deep breaths, sighed, and turned to look out the train window. Harry glanced at his watch. Students would be arriving en masse any minute now.

"Ginny, I…..I'm sorry. I don't know why this is happening, whatever this is. I never wanted anything other than what you wanted. To move on from the Chamber, and Tom."

Ginny twitched slightly at Harry's words, but her head remained resolutely turned away from Harry. Harry suspected she was crying again. Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"Could we talk about this again later? Maybe with Professor Dumbledore. He might be able to help us figure out what is going on."

Ginny didn't move or speak for a long minute. Eventually though, she nodded silently. Harry stood in the center of the compartment awkwardly, wondering what to do next. Thankfully, he was spared further awkwardness by a gentle tap on the glass of the compartment door. Harry turned, groaning inwardly. He had been hoping to be gone before anybody else showed up. He was greeted by the sight of a short, blonde Ravenclaw with bigger eyes than Harry had ever seen on somebody so small. Her gaze settled onto Harry's face in a dreamy, detached sort of way.

"Hello, Harry Potter. You can go now." She spoke in a sing-song, melodious voice. Harry considered her more closely, and noticed she was wearing a necklace that appeared to be made of butterbeer corks, and had earrings that appeared to be made from old radishes. Harry shook his head in confusion and spoke to the strange girl. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The girl turned her head in a vaguely feline sort of way before speaking again, "You can leave, Harry Potter. I'll make sure Ginny is okay. I brought Plimpy juice that should do wonders for her." She smiled encouragingly at Harry, her face never losing that dreamy, detached expression.

Harry backed slowly out of the compartment, noticing Ginny turn around and smile wanly at the strange Ravenclaw as he exited. He turned up the aisle and began walking back towards where Ron and Hermione were seated, lost in thought. Could it really be a Life Debt bond? He didn't know enough about them to be sure. All he knew for sure was that something weird was going on with Ginny, and terrible moments in his life were connected in some way. Harry resolved to seek out Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible. He would be able to put things right again.

With that settled in his mind, Harry turned his attention towards fighting through the thickening crowd in the train corridor. It wasn't easy. Students were pushing past each other, trying to get to their friends, trying to get their trunks into compartments, trying to yell out of the train back to parents with last minute messages and reminders. Harry managed to wedge his way through most of the crowds with the usual platitudes of thanks, only needing to push his way past a couple of groups. He made it back to Ron and Hermione's compartment, pushed the door open and slammed face first into somebody's back. 

He reeled back, tears streaming from his eyes as he clutched his stinging nose. A few minutes of slowly dulling pain later, he was able to focus on the imposing figure in front of him. Clad in Slytherin robes, a golden blonde witch had turned to see who had walked into her. Upon seeing him, a sneer worthy of Malfoy, Snape or Uncle Vernon appeared on her angular, aristocratic face. She spoke, however, not with the malice or venom of any of those three, but instead with the boredom of somebody with much more important things to do.

"Potter. And here I thought you had finally found the good sense to ditch the blood traitor and Mudblood."

Harry felt his blood boil as he reached for his wand.

" _Expelliarmus. Expelliarmus._ " His wand flew out of his hand almost before he had finished pulling it out of his pocket. Two other wands flew over her shoulder from inside the compartment and into the mystery girl's outstretched hand. Her wand disappeared back into the depths of her robes just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Cute," she said in that same bored voice. "In any case, Potter, The Sacred Twenty-Eight are serving notice to all noteworthy families. Standards of blood purity have been amended once more to remove potentially…..unwanted…. influences. As the last of your house, it was thought to be of potential interest to you."

Harry was seeing red, but managed to stay silent. Without his wand, starting a fight was not his smartest choice. He managed a response through gritted teeth. "Fine. You've said your piece. Give me back my wand, now! And give back Ron's and Hermione's as well."

The blonde girl took a step past Harry out into the hallway, and Harry's senses were momentarily overwhelmed by a strong smell of jasmine. The unknown girl began walking away from Harry, as if he'd never spoken. Harry was preparing to rugby-tackle this girl and demand she return the wands when he saw his wand fall to the floor in the girl's wake. He rushed forward to pick it up, sorely tempted to curse the blonde in the back as she walked away. "Give back the other two wands!" Harry shouted at her, his wand leveled at her back.

The blonde aristocrat rotated on the spot, eyes momentarily focusing on the wand now pointed at her chest, and then back to Harry's face. Her face maintained an almost glacial calm. Several silent seconds passed as Harry's breathing quickened, wand twitching in his hand. The Slytherin girl gave no indication that Harry had said anything though, and turned back around. Harry snapped, and shouted, " _Petrificus Totalus!"_

As if she had eyes on the back of her head and could see the curse shooting towards her, the girl dodged gracefully, twirled, and blasted Harry's wand out of his hand once again. She took several measured steps towards Harry, closing the gap between them to almost nothing, and once again the scent of jasmine filled Harry's nostrils. She spoke, her aristocratic tones now colored with dangerous venom. "Try that a third time and you'll not like the result. The blood traitor can pick up his wand from Professor Snape after the feast."

She turned and began walking away again, once more dropping Harry's wand on the floor behind her without breaking stride. Harry approached his wand slowly this time, hesitating before picking it up this time. Once he had righted himself, he shouted at the blonde's retreating back, "What about Hermione? Give her wand back!"

The girl took another couple of paces before stopping, and, finally, a third wand dropped to the floor. Harry rushed forward to retrieve it. Before he had covered more than half the distance between them, the girl's foot shot out, clad in dragon hide half-boots with a wicked looking heel. A sickening _crack_ echoed through the train as she brought the heel down through the middle of Hermione's wand, snapping it cleanly in two.

All rational thought left Harry immediately. His only goal in life now was to pummel that arrogant, bigoted girl until she begged forgiveness. He charged forward with a bellow worthy of Uncle Vernon. The girl turned once more, almost lazily said, " _Impedimenta,"_ and flicked her wand at Harry. Harry came to a near instant halt. Every effort to move felt as if he were fighting through particularly dense quicksand. He struggled for a moment or two before giving up, exhausted.

The girl took one step to once again close the gap between her and Harry. The scent of jasmine was heady in the air between the two of them, making it hard for Harry to focus properly. Almost as if sensing this, the girl leaned in even closer, putting her lips next to Harry's ear. The jasmine scent was now all Harry could focus on, and he hated himself for it. It overwhelmed his senses, muted his anger, and heightened his self-loathing. How could he be this weak? The girl did nothing for three heartbeats, letting Harry torture himself. Then she whispered into his ear, so that none of the crowd that had by now assembled could hear her.

"The Mudblood never should have been invited here to begin with. If she insists on sullying the rest of us with her presence, she'll have to pay for another wand." She pulled her lips away from Harry's ear and spoke again, this time loudly enough for the collected crowd to hear. "I told you, Potter, you would regret trying to attack me a third time. She put her hands delicately on his shoulders, and brought her knee sharply into his groin.

Harry's eyes watered immediately and he began whimpering, but he was unable to do anything about the pain under the effects of the Impediment Jinx. The blonde, arrogant girl leaned in closely one last time, giving Harry one last blast of the jasmine perfume. She looked him straight in the eyes for the first time, their faces centimeters apart. Pale blue eyes locked onto green. Once again, the girl let the moment linger a few seconds before whispering, "A pleasure to finally meet you, Potter." She turned on her heel and walked down the corridor, returning to her compartment.

Tears of pain started streaming down Harry's face as he watched her retreating form. As the door to her compartment shut behind her, Harry felt the Impediment Jinx holding him in place fade away. He instantly collapsed in a pile on the ground, clutching at his groin, groaning in pain and anger. Ron and Hermione rushed forward, Hermione sobbing. Ron looked around at the assembled crowd and shouted, "OY! You lot! Bugger off!" The crowd began shifting as everybody slowly began turning back to their compartments, their murmurs increasing in volume every second.

Not long after the last compartment door had shut itself, Fred and George came running down the corridor. Noticing Harry prone on the floor, they rushed forward and picked him from under the arms and half-carried, half-dragged him back to Ron and Hermione's compartment. Ron and Hermione came in right behind, Hermione sobbing over the broken halves of what had once been her wand. Fred and George laid Harry down on one of the seats, giving him sympathetic looks. They turned to Ron and simultaneously said, "What happened?"

Ron tried filling them in as best as he could, but eventually had to tell them to wait for Harry's pain to subside to get a complete story, instead of the fragments that he had overheard from a distance. Eventually, Harry sat up with a groan and related the full story. Fred and George on more than one occasion leapt from their seats, intent on hunting down the arrogant girl who had so humiliated their honorary brother, sister and family. Only at Harry's insistence did they drop their plans for the moment.

After Harry finished his re-telling, the five of them lapsed into silence, punctuated only by Hermione's shuddering breaths as she tried to pull herself together.

Eventually, the train shuddered as they pulled away from Kings Cross station. Not long after, Fred and George excused themselves and set off to find Lee Jordon. Nobody else said a word for hours until Harry broke the silence. "Who was she anyways? I don't think I've ever met her before today."

Hermione made a sound Harry could only describe as a snarl crossed with a growl. "You've seen her before, Harry, even if you never noticed. She's part of Pansy Parkinson's crowd in our year. Frustratingly good at Runes." Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at each other and grinned for the first time in what seemed like forever. Hermione _would_ pick something like that as a defining reason to hate somebody. Hermione sent the two of them withering looks, and the somber tone re-settled over the cabin. Silence reigned again right up until they pulled into Hogsmeade Station another couple of hours later. As they stood up to exit the train, Harry turned to Hermione and asked her, "Hermione, what's her name? I need to know if I'm to set all this right again." Hermione nodded, and took a steadying breath.

"Her name is Daphne Greengrass." 


	3. Chapter 3: Law and Order

_Author's Note: I do apologize for disappearing for so long. Life has a habit of getting in the way. Next chapter gets us back to Harry's POV._

Harry Potter and the Sacred Twenty-Eight

Chapter 3: Law and Order

Albus Dumbledore arrived in the Ministry of Magic Atrium with a slight 'pop' of Apparition on the morning of September the 1st looking serene, resplendent in robes of midnight blue. His calm features, however, belied the urgency with which he moved across the expansive room.

After handing over his wand for a cursory check-in with the security guard, he swept over to the lifts and entered the nearest one. The lift began its descent, much more slowly than usual, in Dumbledore's opinion. But, for all his titles and prestige, he could not will the lift to move more quickly down the six floors necessary to reach the Department of Magical Law Enforcement any more than the Chudley Cannons could will themselves to the league championship this year.

As the lift made its agonizingly slow trip down into the subterranean lower levels of the Ministry, Dumbledore considered the way his day had begun: with a panicked sounding Patronus from Arthur Wesley, informing him that Alastor Moody had been arrested for murder. It was, Dumbledore mused, about as bad of news as he could've received. The first day of classes was tomorrow, and he was suddenly short a staff member at the position that had become nearly impossible to fill in the last several years: Defense Against the Dark Arts. But more importantly, his plans for extra security at Hogwarts this coming school year were ruined. Even if he managed to eventually get the charges dropped or lessened, he would never convince the Board of Governors to keep Alastor as a professor now. He had only narrowly avoided a formal vote on the matter _before_ Alastor had been arrested. To try to maintain the appointment as though nothing had happened would be optimistic to the point of foolishness.

He would have to get creative, and act quickly if this situation were to be salvaged, Dumbledore thought to himself as the lift announced they were passing by Level Three: Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The renewal of the Triwizard Tournament and pending arrival of Igor Karkaroff meant that time was now of the essence more than ever. The staff appointment could wait, he judged. A week or two of missed lessons, while unfortunate, was easily remedied, assuming he could find a suitable replacement on such short notice. Extra security, however, was a pressing need, as the night of the Quidditch World Cup had proven. Dumbledore closed his eyes in concentration, attempting to find an answer to the mess he now found himself in.

It was a problem whose solution would have to wait. No more than a handful of seconds after he had closed his eyes did the cool voice of the lift announce, "Level Two: Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Dumbledore opened his eyes and stepped out of the lift towards the office of the Head of Department, his steps as hurried as they had been six floors above.

"Albus, thank goodness!" came the relieved voice of Arthur Weasley as Dumbledore turned the corner into the corridor containing Amelia Bones' office.

Dumbledore greeted the younger man and then tilted his head marginally at the door to Madam Bones' office, which was closed, and judging from the unnatural silence emanating from it, warded to be sound proof.

"Who is she meeting with, Arthur?" he asked, quietly.

"The Minister," Arthur responded, his voice tight with anxiety. "I had hoped to talk to Amelia before he could get involved, but…." He sighed resignedly and grimaced. "I guess that was too much to hope for."

Dumbledore nodded, his brow furrowing. Cornelius' involvement was inevitable at some point, the scope of the alleged crime ensured that. But for him to be directly involved this early in the process was an impediment he, too, could have done without.

He sighed, "We shall just have to do our best despite Cornelius and whatever road blocks he may put in our place. While we wait, Arthur, tell me everything you know about this… incident."

Arthur grimaced again, "I'm afraid what I know isn't much more than I sent in my Patronus. Mad-Eye was arrested earlier this morning after another disturbance was reported at his house. Aurors arrived and must've found something incriminating, because they charged him with murder, didn't they?"

Dumbledore had listened intently and silently through Arthur's brief tale. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. One way or the other, however," he said slowly, "we will have to wait for Madam Bones to ascertain more." Arthur nodded, looking as displeased as Dumbledore felt.

The next fifteen minutes passed in silence, with both men lost in their own thoughts. Dumbledore had made no further progress on his security problem when the office door opened, revealing a harried looking Cornelius Fudge, twisting his lime green bowler hat in his hands as he walked. If Fudge was surprised to see him, his face didn't show it.

"Albus," he said slowly, shaking Dumbledore's hand, "dreadful morning. Absolutely dreadful. A Ministry legend, disgraced. Shameful. I expect you're here to question Amelia about him as well?"

Dumbledore suppressed a scowl. "Yes, Cornelius, I am, though I am not yet convinced of Alastor's guilt in this matter."

Fudge's eyes bulged in their sockets slightly, and his mouth gaped as he searched for words. "Not convinced….. really, Dumbledore, I know you and he have a history together, but this time there's no defending him. The Aurors found a body!"

"Have you seen it? Can you be certain Alastor preformed a curse that killed the victim?"

"Well… no," Fudge blustered, looking marginally deflated as he admitted this. "Amelia says her team is still conducting tests on the body and will not be releasing any more details until their tests are done."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding, the smallest hint of a frown crossing his lips "Then, Cornelius, I shall continue to believe in the possibility of extenuating circumstances, until I am presented with undeniable proof."

Fudge looked as though Dumbledore were slightly mad, but chose not to press the issue any further. Instead he asked, "What will you be doing for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Albus?"

Dumbledore inclined his head towards Fudge, conceding the difference of opinion for the time being. "I have begun formulating a list of potential replacements," he told Fudge. "When I am ready to make an appointment, I shall inform you with all due haste."

"Very well, very well, Dumbledore. I shall await your owl. In the meantime, good day." Fudge shook hands with Dumbledore and gave a cursory nod to Arthur, and then departed, his bowler hat once again being twisted nervously between his fingers.

With timing that was slightly too perfect to be coincidental, the office door opened again as Fudge disappeared around a corner, revealing Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was a middle-aged woman, intimidating in demeanor, her face set in a look of piercing, thoughtful analysis as she looked around at Dumbledore and Arthur through her monocle. "Arthur, Chief Warlock," she greeted them emotionlessly with a slight nod to each.

Dumbledore noticed Arthur's raised eyebrows at the formality of the greeting he, Dumbledore, had received. Dumbledore, however, smiled and quickly replied, "Madam Bones, a pleasure as always. Arthur and I wish to speak to you regarding Alastor Moody and his current legal….. issues."

Madam Bones nodded, her face remaining carefully neutral. "I thought you would. Please, come in." She gave Dumbledore a pointed look. "I would be neglecting my duty as department head if I did not discuss such a high profile case with the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot"

Dumbledore nodded fractionally, understanding the meaning behind the formality. Amelia was going strictly by the book on this one, almost certainly due to how messy it could quickly become in the near future. He would have to tread carefully here. "I appreciate your candor, Madam. If I might have a quick word with Arthur before commencing our meeting?"

Madam Bones inclined her head slightly and replied, "I have another appointment in ten minutes. Knock when you are ready." And with that she disappeared back into her office with a click of the door.

Dumbledore turned to Arthur and whispered, "May I assume you are here to try to push for a charge related to your department?"

Arthur nodded and whispered back, "Yes, Albus. Considering some of Mad-Eye's prior run-in's with the law concerned my department, I had hoped I could be of some use here. Amelia has been open to accepting lesser charges with Mad-Eye before…", he trailed off, giving Dumbledore a shrewd look. "But you don't believe that will be the case this time, do you, Albus?"

Dumbledore shook his head gravely. "At this point in time, no, I do not. For reasons I hope to discover soon, Madam Bones seems intent on doing this exactly by the book. I do not think she will accept a lesser charge from your department or any other at this time." Dumbledore gave a soft smile of sympathy at the look of disappointment and anguish that had reappeared on Arthur's face. "Your concern for Alastor's well-being is a credit to your character, Arthur. I will make sure to inform Alastor of your efforts when I get the chance to speak to him next. For now, however, you should return to your family and help them prepare for the trip to King's Cross. I shall inform you the instant you are able to assist me."

The look of dissatisfaction deepened on Arthur's face as Dumbledore spoke. He opened his mouth, perhaps to argue the point, when a paper airplane donned with the seal of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office zoomed into the room and began circling his head. He snatched it from the air and read it quickly before looking back at Dumbledore, his face awash with fresh determination. "Albus, my three eldest are waiting for me in my office, wanting to know how they can help. You cannot expect us to sit idly by while Mad-Eye is in trouble. Please, Albus, let us help."

Dumbledore eyed Arthur appraisingly, and when he spoke it was in a whisper so quiet that Arthur almost didn't catch the first couple of words. "Then you must begin canvassing the Ministry for others who feel as you do. If Madam Bones does not concede anything on this matter, and the charges turnout to be largely true, Alastor's only hope will be a collection of influential people throughout the Ministry demanding he be released or given a lesser charge. But use the utmost caution. If it gets out that you are trying to influence this matter….."

Arthur gave a grim nod, his face etched with a look of hard determination. "You can count on us, Albus. I'll be on my way immediately."

Dumbledore shook the other man's hand and watched briefly as Arthur made his way quickly to the lifts before turning and knocking on Madam Bones' door. The door opened on the second knock, and he entered a spacious, sparsely decorated room and once again was met with the poker stiff face of Amelia Bones.

"Chief Warlock," she intoned, gesturing him to a seat in front of her desk. "I had expected Arthur to be joining us." It was a statement, not a question.

Dumbledore smiled serenely as he took his seat opposite Amelia. "As did I, Madam. But ultimately he decided his place was with his family this morning. He does still have four children who will be arriving at Hogwarts later today."

Madam Bones gave Dumbledore a calculating look. "Well then," she began, her voice tinged with doubt at Dumbledore's previous statement, "Let us discuss Alastor Moody."

Dumbledore nodded, his look of serenity shifting to one of utmost seriousness. "Please, Madam Bones, inform me of what led you to arrest Alastor this morning."

Amelia began speaking at length about the events that had led to the arrest, outlining her department's best understanding of the timeline of events, as well as the full charges Alastor was facing. Dumbledore listened with rapt attention, not interrupting once. Only once Amelia's descriptions had ceased did he speak.

"Your thoroughness is admirable as ever, Madam Bones. There is, however, a question I have, if you will forgive the further intrusion on your time."

Amelia nodded, her face giving away nothing. Dumbledore began speaking again, his eyes locked onto Amelia's. "Has the victim's wand been found, and if it has, has it been checked? It seems clear to me that the victim, whether innocently or nefariously, had trespassed on Alastor's property. If Alastor killed in self-defense, the charge of murder would, of course, be inappropriate.

Madam Bones pursed her lips together in dissatisfaction. "Chief Warlock, as you surely noted in my explanation, Mr. Moody allegedly used an advanced Cutting Curse in his attack on his victim. The resulting mess means that until our examination of the body and crime scene is complete, we won't even know if our victim was magical, much less whether there were extenuating circumstances. The only thing we are sure of at the moment is that Moody did in fact cast a Cutting Curse and somebody is dead."

Dumbledore inclined his head and spoke once more. "My apologies, Madam. May I then ask when you expect your initial investigations to be complete?"

Madam Bones fixed Dumbledore with an evaluative stare. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued before she could speak, "I'm sure you need no reminders, Madam, but as Chief Warlock, I am entitled to the information as soon as it is available."

For the first time this morning, Dumbledore saw Amelia's glacially calm demeanor crack, revealing a hint of irritation before returning to its usual impassable blankness. "There is no need to throw your position around, Chief Warlock," she said, a touch of the earlier irritation coloring her pronunciation of the last two words. "I am fully aware of the law," she continued, "And I intend to carry it out to the best of my abilities." She paused a moment, apparently considering her next words before starting again. "But, you are correct. My next appointment is with Rufus Scrimgeour, the lead Auror on the case. If you wish, you may stay and receive his briefing with me, or I can have a DictaQuill copy of the briefing sent to you at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded his assent. "You indicated earlier that your appointment with Auror Scrimgeour was to occur soon. If that is still the case, I shall await him here with you."

Amelia nodded her confirmation that Scrimgeour was due momentarily, and the two lapsed into silence.

Five silent minutes later, a sharp knock sounded on Amelia's office door, and a grizzled looking Auror with a mane of graying hair entered the room and approached Amelia's desk. If the Auror was surprised by the presence of Dumbledore, his face didn't show it. In fact, he didn't acknowledge Dumbledore's presence at all as he came to a halt next to him. Dumbledore took immediate notice of two slim scrolls of parchment he held under one arm. He stood stiffly at attention and said in a gruff, ragged sounding voice, "Madam Bones, the initial analysis of the crime scene and victim's body are ready for your consideration."

Amelia glanced at Scrimgeour, unfurled a fresh scroll of parchment, grabbed a self-inking quill and said simply, "Proceed, Rufus."

Rufus drew a deep breath, unfurled one of the scrolls of parchment and began his explanation, pausing at times to consult his notes. "Madam, our initial examination of the crime scene found very little of note, beyond the dead body. The only other discovery of note was the remains of a wand, sliced cleanly in half. We conclude that the wand was caught in the path of the Cutting Curse Mr. Moody fired at our victim, likely still in the victim's robes. Further attempts at identifying the wand remnants are underway. We have an appointment with Mr. Ollivander tomorrow afternoon to see if he can provide a positive identification."

Dumbledore grimaced at this last bit of information. On its face, the fact that the victim was magical would work in Alastor's favor; it kept open the possibility that he had acted in self-defense. But the fact that the wand had been destroyed prevented it from being tested under the _Prioi Incantato_ spell. The fact that it had been a magical victim would not, Dumbledore suspected, be enough to clear Alastor on its own. His musings were interrupted by Amelia's first question.

"What of Mr. Moody's residence? Has that been searched?" she asked Scrimgeour.

Scrimgeour consulted his notes again before responding. "No, Madam. It would appear that Mr. Moody placed a number of difficult and dangerous wards around his home that prevented immediate entry by our forces. We have a team of Curse Breakers on standby, but I thought it best for them to wait until nightfall for them to begin their work. It is, after all, a primarily muggle neighborhood, and the sort of spell work necessary to bring down these wards will draw attention, even with anti-muggle charms."

As Amelia added a few notes to her already nearly full scroll of parchment, Dumbledore spoke for the first time since Scrimgeour had entered the room. "And what of the victim's identity? Did your examination of the body reveal any information on that front?"

Scrimgeour reflexively looked at Amelia, who had looked up from her scroll of notes upon hearing Dumbledore's voice. After a moment's consideration, she spoke to Scrimgeour. "You will answer the Chief Warlock's question, Auror Scrimgeour."

Scrimgeour continued, his momentary uncertainty forgotten. "Chief Warlock, unfortunately, after extensive testing, cleaning, and restoration, the victim's body could not be positively identified by anybody on my team. The best we have is the following description and an accompanying sketch of what the victim might have looked like before being hit with Mr. Moody's Cutting Curse." He unfurled the other scroll he had entered with and began reading. "The victim was a human male, approximately thirty years old, with blond hair and blue eyes. He had a pale complexion, though this may have been due to blood loss as a result of the circumstances of his death. He was of medium height, standing at about 175 centimeters, and weighing approximately 13 stone." He set the scroll on Amelia's desk, allowing her to examine the sketch of the victim that accompanied the analysis Scrimgeour had just provided.

Amelia glanced at the parchment and gasped in shock and horror. "Albus!" she exclaimed, forgetting her formality in her shock. Dumbledore stood and crossed to the other side of the desk to get a full look at the sketch. When he saw the face of the young man drawn onto the parchment, his eyes turned hard, and he straightened immediately, facing Scrimgeour.

"In your study of the victim's remains, did you examine his left forearm?" he asked coldly.

Scrimgeour took a reflexive step backward before gathering his wits. "No, sir," he answered, with something less than his usual cool professionalism. Dumbledore's voice had lost all of its usual good cheer and was now filled with an ancient pain and cold fury, and left no room for delay, or for incomplete information.

"Explain why not, Auror Scrimgeour." This time it was Madam Bones' voice that had changed to be nearly unrecognizable. Unlike Dumbledore's cold fury, however, Madam Bones' voice had changed from glacially calm to a barely suppressed inferno of rage.

Scrimgeour gulped and temporized by looking through his original scroll of notes. Dumbledore could tell that this was not at all what Scrimgeour had expected when he had entered the room. Taking a steadying breath, the Auror spoke quickly, as though his future depended on the speed with which his words came out. "Because, Madam, there was not enough of the left forearm remaining to examine. Judging from the damage sustained to that part of his body, he held up his left arm as a reflexive, if useless, way of protecting himself against the cutting curse. The curse ripped through his forearm and then through his chest, making any examination of the left forearm impossible."

Dumbledore stared at the Auror with the same cold gaze he'd held ever since first looking at the sketch of the victim. He considered the rapidly paling man in front of him, and, after another moment, compassion starting to return to his thoughts. His eyes softened, and he turned to Amelia.

"Madam Bones, Rufus would have been no more than fifteen when this particular individual committed his crimes. And given that this individual's left arm was apparently destroyed by a Cutting Curse this morning, he can hardly be held accountable for not knowing."

Amelia took a steadying breath herself, and spoke, determined to regain command of the situation. "I agree, Chief Warlock." She turned to Scrimgeor, "Auror Scrimgeour, this investigation is now considered a top level security interest, requiring the utmost secrecy. I will require a vow of silence from you before you leave this room." Scrimegeour gaped at Amelia, and Dumbledore frowned, but said nothing as she continued, "You may continue your investigation into Mr. Moody's residence, but I will be taking the meeting with Mr. Ollivander personally, and alone. Mr. Moody is to be kept in solitary confinement until I personally give orders otherwise. You are to double the guard around his cell as well. Are there any questions on any of these matters?"

Scrimgeour continued to gape at Amelia, and Dumbledore took the opportunity to turn to the Head of the DMLE and voice a concern. "A vow of silence, Madam Bones? Are you quite sure that is—"

"Auror Scrimgeour reports to me and is under my authority, Chief Warlock! He will take the vow or be Obliviated. That is procedure for top secret security interests, and I will not have you usurping them!" Amelia snapped. Dumbledore's eyes widened momentarily, but settled for a look of distaste before falling silent again.

Scrimegeour had recovered some of his usual poise during the brief argument and gathered himself, speaking directly to Amelia. "Madam Bones, my apologies for my loss of composure. I will take the vow immediately." As he drew his wand, Dumbledore opened his mouth as if to voice another objection, but was quelled by a glare from Amelia. Scrimgeour recited the vow, there was a flash of white light, and Amelia dismissed him from the room.

Once the door closed, Dumbledore opened his mouth to voice his objection to the vow of silence once more, but was cut off. "Save your moralizing, Albus," Madam Bones said harshly, her formality dropping again. "It is done and cannot be undone. We have more pressing matters at hand."

Dumbledore closed his mouth and reflected briefly. Yes, he had a great deal of concern with the vow Scrimgeour had just been forced to take, but ultimately, at this point, she was correct. It was a battle for another day. "Very well, Amelia," he said with a sigh, "how would you like to proceed?"

Amelia Bones' mouth was a grim slash across her face. "We have been lied to for nearly 15 years, Albus," she fumed. "It is time to figure out the extent to which we have been deceived and hold accountable those responsible."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I agree," he said. "And what of Alastor? You cannot believe him to be a cold blooded murder after seeing that sketch."

Amelia grimaced, but shook her head. "He is still a person of interest in the case, Albus, and will remain in Ministry custody until the investigation is complete. But no, I no longer believe him to be guilty. Of murder, anyways." She smiled grimly, "The solitary confinement and extra guards, however distasteful, should ensure he remains alive until we can get to the bottom of this. He still has plenty to answer for."

Dumbledore gave the smallest of smiles at these words. It was not all that he had wanted when he had arrived, but it was more than he had hoped for. He could push for more at a later time.

As he and Amelia began to work on unraveling the mysteries and questions posed by the appearance of the sketch of the victim, Dumbledore reflected on the implications of today on the future. Fortune telling was a spotty art, at best, and he had certainly never shown any indication of possessing the Inner Eye, but somehow Dumbledore felt sure that today would have ramifications for many years to come.

Hours later, as he stepped out of the fireplace in his office mere minutes before the start of term feast was to begin, he felt more confident in his prediction than ever: the revelation that Bartemius Crouch, Jr. had been alive and well until this morning would not be overlooked by the history books.

Dumbledore sighed wearily and began to make his way to the exit, deciding that his opening remarks after the sorting would have to be brief, even by his standards. Before he got halfway across the room, however, the door slammed open, a cacophony of shouting and rage billowing in behind it.


	4. Chapter 4: Chaos and Consequences

Harry Potter and the Sacred Twenty-Eight

Chapter 4: Chaos and Consequences

"Her name is Daphne Greengrass."

Hermione's words echoed through Harry's mind for what seemed like the thousandth time on the carriage ride up to the castle. In the short time since hearing it for the first time on the train, Harry had thought of little else. It was a mantra that beat through his brain as severely as the rain fell against the carriage as it squelched its way up the winding path from Hogsmeade Station. The confrontation on the train kept replaying over and over again in his mind's eye, and Harry was starting to shake from fury again.

"Her name is Daphne Greengrass."

With a yell, Harry punched the wall of the carriage, earning himself a sore hand to pair with his sore groin. Shaking his hand to distract from the pain, he looked around the carriage. Ron looked to be close to punching a wall himself, his face as red as his hair, lost in his own thoughts. Hermione had managed to pull herself together some since departing the train. She sat silently, her face set in a look of fierce determination as she stared at the pieces of her wand clenched in one hand. Only the Weasley twins had reacted to Harry's yell, by turning their gaze away from each other and towards Harry.

"No sense in taking it out on the carriage, mate," Fred said, his voice unnaturally serious. "Save it for Greengrass."

George nodded his agreement. "Speaking of which, Harry: what's the plan for her? Whatever it is, we want in."

Harry felt slightly off-kilter as he hear George's words. Plan? Wasn't it obvious? The only punishment suitable for that vile girl was pummeling her to a pulp. Except this time, he would make sure she didn't have a wand. He opened his mouth to voice this thought, but was pre-empted by Hermione.

"We're taking this straight to Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore," she said, her voice filling with a sadistic determination that Harry had never imagined her capable of before. "She'll be out of the castle for good before dessert for what she's done." She raised her head, and Harry saw that her face had twisted itself into the same furious scowl that she had held right before hitting Malfoy the year before. "She may not think I belong here, but I'll see that she never comes back." Her gaze dropped back to the wand fragments in her lap, still gripped in white-knuckled fists.

Harry, Ron, Fred and George exchanged looks that plainly said that they didn't think Hermione's plan was quite direct enough for their liking, but none of them said anything to Hermione, choosing instead to stay silent. Harry mouthed 'Later' to Ron and the twins, who nodded their assent as the carriage came to a halt.

Hermione shot from the carriage and began a determined sprint towards Professor McGonagall, who could be heard over the downpour directing students to their seats from her customary post in the Entrance Hall. Harry gestured to Ron, Fred and George to linger a second and said, as quietly as he could while still overcoming the sound of the storm, "Meet in the common room after everybody's gone to sleep."

The other three nodded, and began to trudge their way towards the dryness of the school. They hadn't made it more than five feet when a cold, triumphant drawl echoed behind them. "Is it true, Potter? Granger's had her wand snapped?"

Harry's heart began beating so fast Harry thought it might burst through his chest. He, Ron, Fred and George turned to see Draco Malfoy, who looked positively delighted as he emerged from the carriage behind theirs. He was flanked, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle, who wore similar, if dimmer, looks of delight.

Harry could hear the blood thundering in his ears. He faintly heard Ron say, "Leave it, Malfoy, if you know what's good for you."

Malfoy's smile, if possible, grew even bigger. "Or what, Weasley?" he jeered, "Going to hex me with your bare hands?" Ron's face was by this point so red it practically glowed through the rain-filled darkness. Fred grabbed the neck of Ron's robes, while George did the same for Harry. "Save it, Harry," George shouted over the rain. "He'll get his, the git." His every instinct screamed for him to curse Malfoy, to beat him senseless, but Harry nodded tightly and began to turn back towards the castle, as Fred started guiding Ron in the same direction.

Malfoy's grin shifted from overjoyed to predatory. "Yes, Potter, save it!" he called out to Harry's turning back. "Why waste it on your pet Mudblood? She only got what she deserved!"

Harry felt George's grip slacken and he turned back around to face Malfoy, his thoughts now laser focused. With a roar, he drew his wand and cried out:

" _Expelliarmus!"_

A jet of red light left his wand and connected with Malfoy's chest at the same time as two other jets of light, one a sickly yellow, the other bright orange, also hit Malfoy. Harry snatched Malfoy's wand out of the air and then looked behind him. Fred and George had their wands drawn, pointed directly at Malfoy, their usually good-natured faces contorted in fury. Harry turned back towards Malfoy in time to see Ron collide with Goyle, who had stepped in front of Malfoy in a delayed act of protection. Harry, Fred and George fired off another set of hexes at Crabbe and Goyle, who retreated quickly back down the road towards Hogsmeade, their faces sporting assorted boils and abrasions.

Harry paused for a moment to examine Malfoy. He was now being pummeled into the ground by a furious Ron, vomiting uncontrollably, and seemed to be breaking out in large, pus-filled boils all over his face and arms. Harry looked at the twins and said, "Get Ron to the castle. Malfoy and I are going to finish this." The twins nodded without question. They rushed forward, hoisting Ron under his arms and started dragging him towards the Entrance Hall.

Harry stepped forward to where Malfoy lay shaking uncontrollably with each heave of his stomach. The boils covering his face were beginning to darken and swell. The adrenaline of the fight was fading from Harry's mind, and he could hear the screams of the students who had arrived after Malfoy. He knew he didn't have much time. If the students arriving were in Slytherin...

Harry pointed his wand once more at Malfoy and muttered,

" _Finite_."

Immediately, Malfoy stopped vomiting, though the boils remained. Malfoy rose shakily to his knees, his facial features barely visible beneath the boils. Harry stored his wand in one of the pockets in his robe, and brandished Malfoy's own wand at him.

"Hermione is twice the witch you'll ever be, Malfoy," Harry roared. Malfoy could only look at Harry piteously, the boils on his face now dark purple and threatening to burst. Harry looked down at him with hatred in his eyes. He gripped an end of Malfoy's wand in each hand and raised it over his knee. He glared at Malfoy and swung the wand down.

"STUPEFY!"

Harry's body dropped to the ground, stunned, with Malfoy's wand gripped in both hands, an inch above his knee.

* * *

Harry awoke with a jolt. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying on his back. The second thing he noticed was that he was staring at a ceiling that could only belong to one of the many corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry craned his neck and saw that he was hovering in the air, the wand of an absolutely furious looking Professor McGonagall aimed at him. She locked eyes with Harry, and a second later, Harry dropped unceremoniously to the floor. He pulled himself to his feet, groaning, and noticing for the first time he and Professor McGonagall were not the only ones in the hallway. As he stood, he saw an absolutely livid Professor Snape; Ron, Fred and George eyeing him with pride mixed with worry; Hermione looking at him with eyes full of concern; and Daphne Greengrass, who glanced at him once, her face not revealing anything in their brief moment of eye contact.

Harry shook his head to clear the cobwebs that had gathered and looked around. They were standing in front of the stone gargoyle Harry knew to guard the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Cockroach Clusters," muttered Snape to the gargoyle, which hopped aside immediately. Snape gestured to Greengrass who stepped through the opening and onto the rotating staircase beyond. Snape gave Harry a look of deepest loathing and then swept after his student up the spiral staircase. Professor McGonagall then spoke, her voice under careful control, but leaving room for no argument. "Misters Weasley, Miss Granger, up you go. Mr. Potter, and I will follow." All three Weasleys and Hermione marched silently to the staircase and stepped on. Harry and Professor McGonagall waited a moment and then stepped on, too.

As the staircase brought them closer to Dumbledore's office, Harry looked up at Professor McGonagall and opened his mouth to speak. Whether to apologize or to justify himself, he did not know, but before he could get so much as a word out, Professor McGonagall spoke with a voice colder than anything Harry had ever heard from her before. "You will stay silent until asked to speak, Potter!"

Harry dropped his head, shame entering his emotions for the first time that night. The whirlwind of anger he had been living in ever since walking into Daphne Greengrass on the train had dissipated, replaced with a cold fear. He knew he had gone too far with Malfoy. Much too far. Almost as far as Greengrass had gone with Hermione. Harry felt sick to his stomach as he and Professor McGonagall reached the top of the staircase and rejoined the others. He raised his head again to look at Professor McGonagall, overcome by an impulse to explain himself. "Please, Professor, I—"

"Mister Potter." the voice was not the angry brogue Harry had been expected, but the venomous tones of Snape, who, upon hearing Harry, looked as angry as Harry had ever seen him. "You have launched unprovoked attacks on multiple students and the opening feast has not yet begun!" Snape's voice rose with each word until he was practically shouting. "You will be lucky to avoid the inside of a prison cell after what you have done today, so HOLD. YOUR. TONGUE!"

Harry's shame was quickly overpowered by a fresh wave of anger. He opened his mouth to respond, but Professor McGonagall beat him to it.

"I would hardly call Mister Potter's actions unprovoked, Severus!" Like Snape, McGonagall's voice rose quickly as she spoke. "In fact, I dare say that, however foolish and reprehensible his actions may be, they were a direct result of your students' despicable language and actions towards Miss Granger!"

Snape looked livid. "I have three students in the hospital wing—" he started to shout, but was drowned out by Professor McGonagall, who had lost any calm she had remaining. "AND I HAVE ONE WITHOUT A WAND BECAUSE OF YOUR STUDENT'S BIGOTRY AND HATRED!" McGonagall screamed at Snape, her face splotchy with anger. She advanced on Snape, drawing her wand. Snape's eyes widened and he reached for his own wand. Harry, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Greengrass all ducked, waiting with bated breath as McGonagall stepped closer to Snape. McGonagall however, pushed past Snape upon reaching him and aimed her wand at Dumbledore's office door and blasted it open. She and Snape hurried inside. Harry and the others followed tentatively behind, not wanting to get too close.

"ALBUS!" came the simultaneous roars of anger from Snape and McGonagall. Both professors began yelling their versions of what happened at a decidedly shocked looking Dumbledore. He recovered quickly, however, drawing his wand and emitting a loud bang from the end of it. Silence reigned immediately. He looked admonishingly at Snape and McGonagall. "Minerva, Severus, I am disappointed," Dumbledore's voice was quiet, but filled with annoyance. "To be setting this sort of example is not at all what I expect, from either of you." McGonagall had the good grace to look ashamed. Snape's face went blank, and he only nodded stiffly at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gave both professors a long, penetrating look, before giving a satisfied nod. He turned to Harry and the others. "I think," he said quietly, "it would be best if we were comfortable before telling our tales." He conjured eight squashy arm chairs and gestured for everybody to sit. Snape and Greengrass took the seats on the far left. McGonagall and the Gryffindor students took the rest. Dumbledore sat down in his own, throne-like chair behind his desk and steepled his fingers and looked at all eight of them. "I will be asking each of you to tell me what happened in turn," he said, calmly. "I ask that nobody interrupt anybody else. If there are conflicting versions of what has happened, I will then ask to view your memories of the event to ascertain the truth. Is that understood?" He looked around the room until he received nods of acknowledgement. He sighed wearily. "Let us begin, then," he said. "Professor McGonagall, if you would be so kind as to tell us your version."

Professor McGonagall launched into her tale, beginning with Hermione approaching her in the Entrance Hall and telling her what had happened on the train, followed by seeing spell fire on the grounds, and culminating in stunning Harry before he could snap Malfoy's wand.

Snape went next, and Harry had to restrain himself multiple times from speaking out against details and characterizations in Snape's recollections. As Harry knew he would, Snape had emphasized Harry's actions and skated right on over Malfoy's words and Greengrass' provocations and attack.

Harry and the other Gryffindors went next, each of their stories matching and supporting each other.

Finally, Daphne Greengrass stood to give her version of events. Harry steeled himself, preparing to restrain himself as he had done when Snape had spoken. He set his gaze on her, the same anger he'd been feeling all day simmering and stirring in his stomach as she began to speak. "I cannot speak to the conflict between Malfoy and Mr. Potter and Misters Weasley," she began. "I was not present and therefore can offer no insight." Dumbledore nodded and gestured at her to continue. She spoke again, her voice the same proud, aristocratic voice that she had used on the train. "The incident on the train is largely as Mr. Potter described." Harry's mouth opened in shock. He had been sure she would deny everything. "Though," she continued, arching an eyebrow, "I would like to emphasize that every action I took was in direct response to being threatened or outright attacked. I acted in self-defense, and sent a message to discourage a fourth attack on my person." She sat down, looking unconcerned.

Dumbledore sat in silence for several long moments before speaking. "Let us deal with this one person at a time," he said quietly. "Miss Granger." Hermione stood. "You have been victimized today in a way I never thought would ever occur at Hogwarts. For that I apologize with all my heart. Professor McGonagall will escort you to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning so you can purchase a replacement wand. Do you have any questions or concerns?" Hermione shook her head. "In that case, Dumbledore continued kindly, "you are dismissed. You may return to Gryffindor Tower for the night. If you feel you require a Calming Draught, please feel free to stop by the Hospital Wing on your way back to the dormitories. Hermione nodded and left the office.

Dumbledore next eyed Ron, "Mister Ronald Weasley. You too are a victim of today's events, but also an aggressor against Mister Malfoy." Ron nodded tightly. Dumbledore considered him for a moment before speaking again. "For you role in the attack on Mister Malfoy, you will serve two weeks of detention with Mister Filch. Professor Snape, please return his wand to him." Snape stood briefly and handed Ron his wand without looking at him. Ron took it, looking slightly relieved, and departed.

"Misters Fred and George Weasley." Dumbledore's face tightened some. "Although you were only marginally involved with the events on the Hogwarts Express, you attacked and seriously injured a fellow student." Dumbledore's voice and face held a great deal of rebuke. Fred and George looked extremely nervous. "You are very lucky Mister Malfoy will make a full recovery," Dumbledore continued, "or else your punishment would be much more severe. You will serve a month's detention with Mister Filch, and your mother will be notified of your participation in today's events." Fred and George both went a little paler upon hearing their mother would be notified, but nodded stiffly at Dumbledore before leaving

"Mister Potter." Harry's insides tightened considerably upon being addressed so formally by Dumbledore, but stood nonetheless. "Miss Greengrass." Harry saw the Slytherin rise in his periphery. "I am extremely disappointed in you both," Dumbledore began, and the pit fell out of Harry's stomach. How could he have been so stupid? "You both acted rashly, irresponsibly, and with extreme prejudice, creating the problem that has so disrupted this school today." Dumbledore now focused his full attention on Harry. "Mister Potter, you attacked, or attempted to attack Miss Greengrass three times, and later attacked Mister Malfoy and attempted to destroy his wand. The fact that you did not succeed is your single saving grace in this matter. You have Professor McGonagall to thank for that, I think." Harry nodded, his insides churning with anxiety. He was about to be expelled, he was sure of it. In his rage, he had acted impulsively, and now he was going to pay the price for it.

Dumbledore drew a breath and began speaking again, "Mister Potter, you are hereby put on disciplinary probation, effective immediately, until the beginning of the Yule holiday break. Disciplinary probation severely restricts your freedoms in this castle for the duration of the probation. You will surrender your wand to Professor McGonagall each evening by curfew. It will be returned to you at the beginning of your first class each day. On weekends, you will need to see Professor McGonagall and ask her permission to use your wand for the day. This will, I hope, teach you to value wands, and disincline you from trying to damage anybody else's. You are, of course, also banned from visiting Hogsmeade until your probation is complete. Any further rule breaking will result in immediate expulsion. Do you have any questions about this, Mister Potter?" The knot in Harry's stomach loosened some. He wasn't expelled. Everything else he could handle. He wasn't expelled. He shook his head at Dumbledore, his knees shaking from relief. He turned to leave the office as the others had done, but stopped when he heard Dumbledore's voice, "I ask that you remain here, Mister Potter." Harry stopped, confused, but remained silent and re-took his seat. Dumbledore gave Harry one last disappointed look before switching his gaze to Greengrass. He began speaking again, his voice harder and colder than it had been with any of the others.

"Miss Greengrass. For all of Mister Potter's offenses, he could at least in good conscience claim his actions were motivated by a desire to protect those closest to him. Your actions on the other hand, seem to me to be rooted solely in prejudice and bigotry. Your attacks on Mister Potter might have been excusable as self-defense had they not been preceded by provocations by you, and, in the case of the last attack, a grossly bigoted statement and action aimed at one of Mister Potter's closest friends." At this point, Dumbledore's eyes flared in anger, "Your deliberate destruction of Miss Granger's wand served no purpose except as an exercise in demonstrating your perceived and incorrect assumption of superiority to Miss Granger, and her supposed unworthiness of holding that wand!" Dumbledore's voice had not yet risen beyond the scope of conversational, but there was a power and conviction behind the voice that made Greengrass twitch in discomfort before re-establishing her usual aristocratic air.

Dumbledore fixed Greengrass with a stare so stern, Harry thought her outwardly calm appearance must surely crack again. But she merely stared back at Dumbledore, awaiting his next words. Dumbledore stared at Greengrass, considering her for several long moments, before speaking in a slow, careful tone. "I must admit, my initial thought was to expel you from Hogwarts and see that your wand be snapped." Greengrass, to Harry's complete amazement gave a small grin at these words. Dumbledore noticed, too. "Quite, Miss Greengrass. Undoubtedly your family's connections with the Board of Governors would have seen my decision overturned and your wand restored to you. That is why I am not expelling you." The small grin disappeared from Greengrass' face. She spoke in a cautious voice, "Then what is my punishment, sir?"

Dumbledore gave her another long look, culminating in a small smile of his own. Harry suddenly got the distinct feeling that Dumbledore was looking forward to what he was about to say next. "Your punishment, Miss Greengrass, will be disciplinary probation, the same as Mister Potter." At these words, Professor McGonagall's face twisted in fury and she made a small noise, not unlike a cat whose tail has been trodden on, while Snape's face curled into a triumphant smile. Harry half rose from his seat in outrage, stopping only at a stern look from Dumbledore.

Dumbledore continued, as though no interruptions had occurred. "With one notable exception. Unlike Mister Potter's probation, which is set to expire upon the start of the Yule holiday this year, your probation will have a different set of parameters. Effective tomorrow, you will be enrolled in Muggle Studies with the third year students, in addition to your usual fourth year classes. Your probation will continue," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, as Snape had just made a noise nearly identical to what McGonagall had made moments before, "until you have achieved an O.W.L. of Acceptable or higher in the subject of Muggle Studies. It is my hope this will teach you some tolerance towards those you clearly hold as beneath yourself."

To Harry's great pleasure, for the first time, Daphne Greengrass completely lost her aristocratic composure. She was staring at Dumbledore, fury etched into her porcelain face. For a long moment, she stared angrily into Dumbledore's calm blue eyes. Finally, she spoke, and Harry was again satisfied to note another crack in her otherworldly calm demeanor: her voice was etched with as much anger as her face. "With all due respect, Professor, the Board will never uphold—"

Dumbledore raised a hand, interrupting her, and Harry was again struck by the suspicion that Dumbledore was somewhat enjoying himself at this point. "Miss Greengrass," he said gravely, "I'm afraid the Board will have no authority in this matter. They have the power to overturn suspensions, expulsions, and staffing appointments. But internal discipline remains the sole authority of the headmaster." He kept his gaze level on Greengrass. "Do you have any other concerns, Miss Greengrass?"

It took a long moment, but eventually Greengrass mastered her emotions again, and the calm aristocratic demeanor returned. When she spoke, her voice was a model of neutral respect once more. "Professor, will I be allowed to complete the third year Muggle Studies material at my own pace, or will I be forced to work at a third year pace?"

Dumbledore considered her for another moment before speaking. "A valid question, I think. You will be allowed to progress at your own pace, until you have caught up with your year, at which point you will join their regular classes." Greengrass nodded her acceptance of the terms.

Dumbledore gave one last sweeping glance around his office before speaking again. "If there is nothing else, Miss Greengrass, please surrender your wand to Professor Snape. It will be returned to you tomorrow morning, per the terms of your probation. Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to escort Miss Greengrass back to the Slytherin Common Room?"

Greengrass handed her wand to Snape, who pocketed it and swept from the room, his cloak and Greengrass trailing behind him.

After the office door closed, Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, if you would excuse Harry and me for a minute? I will only be a moment with him and then you can return him to Gryffindor Tower." Professor McGonagall nodded her consent and left the room. Dumbledore turned to Harry and fixed him with a serious gaze.

"Harry," he said, and despite the seriousness of his tone, Harry was relieved that Dumbledore was back to calling him by his first name. "I cannot impress upon you enough the severity of what has occurred here today. Take your punishment seriously." At this, Dumbledore gave him a piercing look. "I will know if you use your cloak to try to usurp your limited freedoms between now and Christmas." Harry nodded uncomfortably. He hadn't even thought of that, though he could understand why Dumbledore had thought he would.

Dumbledore gazed at him for another minute before nodding confidently. "I have no doubt you will come out the other side of this a better man, Harry. If there is nothing else, I shall dismiss you to Professor McGonagall so you can get some rest."

Harry began shaking his head and stood up from his seat. And then he sat down and blurted out, "Sir, wait!" as Dumbledore rose to walk him to the door. Dumbledore sat back down and looked at Harry inquiringly. "Yes, Harry?"

"Sir, something else happened on the train," Harry began, "er….it's nothing to do with Hermione and Greengrass," he said hastily as Dumbledore's look had suddenly hardened. Dumbledore gave a small sigh of relief before gesturing for Harry to continue.

"Well, sir, it's sort of hard to explain. I don't really understand it all, but I was talking to Ginny Weasley when we first got on the train, and she mentioned that she thought we were bound by a Life Debt." Harry saw Dumbledore's eyebrows rise fractionally, and Harry rushed to explain further. "Sir, I swear I never said anything to Ginny about saving her life, except for saying 'You're welcome' when she thanked me right after the Chamber incident happened, so how can we be bound, sir?"

Dumbledore spent several minutes in deep thought before responding. "Harry, I do not wish to give you misleading information. There are several possibilities, none of which I'm willing to expound on without hearing more from you and Miss Weasley. Let us do this: please invite Miss Weasley to have lunch with us here tomorrow. She can share why she believes you are bound, and I can hopefully give you more information at that time."

Harry nodded his assent. Dumbledore rose once more and gestured to the door. "If that is all, Harry, you are dismissed. Professor McGonagall is waiting behind the door to escort your back to your dormitory. Do not forget to surrender your wand to her."

Harry rose as well. "Yes, sir. Good night."

Dumbledore smiled at him for the first time that night. "Good night, Harry."


End file.
